


Without Light Book I (Free version)

by CrystalynnStar



Category: Without Light
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bloodlust, Dragons, Drama & Romance, F/M, Gay Male Character, Human Trafficking, LGBT characters that don't hide or die, Lesbian Character, M/M, Magic, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Mystery, Pining, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Urban Fantasy, Violence, Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29394753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalynnStar/pseuds/CrystalynnStar
Summary: Human pets: precious, exclusive, a whole separate world. Any gender or even no gender, all were worth just as much as a mansion or more.Heather Mayhue never dreamed she'd be anything more than an average nobody from an even more average school and below average broken home.The collar and chains locked all over her body say differently though. They say men with unlimited money and magic now desire her above all else... And they say she can sneak right in, undetected, and topple their whole hellish human trafficking society.One thing stands in her way: fiercely possessive, devastatingly handsome, and blindingly powerful, her shape shifting dragon master.
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Tags/Warnings: magic, shifters, dragons, wolves, human trafficking, violence,  
> blood, gore, dub con, LGBT characters/situations, sexual content, token resistance.
> 
> NOT FOR YOUNG/SENSITIVE AUDIENCES! PTSD, TRAUMA SURVIVORS, AND YOUTH: LEAVE NOW!
> 
> Author's Notes:
> 
> This is not the official, published version of without light! It is a rewrite from my brain. A what could've happened. Same story but so different.
> 
> All rights reserved and all that.
> 
> Enjoy

_"I'm sorry, Hikaru. I love you. I truly do…"_

Her father's trembling voice whispered to her, somehow, dancing on the night's winds. She didn't recall the words in the morning or even see the man who'd spoken them. In fact, Heather Hikaru Mayhue noticed only two things that night: the dark, empty halls of her suburban home, more lonesome than she'd ever known them, and mother's tears: that steady, unending flow of pure, refined misery. One clear drop fell for every crimson one he had shed: life drained away, along with her joy.

And Heather didn't understand it then, but there was something to be said of two lovers torn apart: souls that lost their mate. The barefoot eight-year-old could never hope to console her mother, nor grasp her father's reasons for leaving: destroying everything his family held dear, but she did realize just one thing.

 _I don't ever wanna fall in love._ This childish wish lasted a decade: a stubborn refusal of all that was true and ordained, until the day fate decided it was time to wake up.

* * *

Cold water closed in all around her, until she could feel nothing but her breath stolen away and the pressure of darkness. Through her sight flitted slick black tentacles and glowing red eyes.

Murky green depths robbed all thought and all light.

 _Disgusting._ On instinct Heather coughed up putrid lake water, nearly choking on the aftertaste alone. Her lungs seemed to scream for the dank air that filled them, relieved by precious oxygen even with the bitter aftertaste of seaweed and blood. Once she'd caught her breath, the dizzy teenager tried to get her bearings as well. She seemed to be laying face-down on what felt like a cold, hardwood floor. Something had been wound around both her wrists, keeping them tied behind her back, and she could see only blank darkness, owing to what felt like leather over her eyes. Just as she opened her mouth, attempting to cry out even despite the biting gag she could feel in her mouth, someone cut her off. "Well done my friend," a deep, man's voice rumbled, "that's two humans you've brought me in just one day! And they're young!"

"It was too easy," a separate voice crooned, "young indeed, but stupid as well…"

The first reassured with a laugh. "We'll just market them as 'virgin' and 'fresh!' They oughtta fetch a nice price!"

 _A price?_ Nothing these two said made any sense to poor Heather. She tried again to free herself, struggling valiantly, but whatever bound her remained solid. Whoever these men were, they were not novices at tying people up. If that wasn't bad enough, the two just kept up their conversation, ignoring her entirely. "How'd you manage to put it to sleep though, I wonder?"

"Simple," the second was saying, "I poisoned the water. The pure blood of Lunar Moths works wonders on humans you know..."

"So's anything else, but maybe it worked too good eh?" Now his voice picked up a cruel, teasing drone. "If'n this thing don't wake up, I might just haffta make us some nice human soup..."

 _What!? But I_ _ **am**_ _awake!_ Heather tried to call out, only to find her words muffled. "Hey! I'm erake!" Her voice sounded muffled, but the two with her were very amused. The first of them chuckled, and she realized too late she'd done just what he'd wanted.

"Oh well looka here. Think it's alive?" Judging by the sound of his voice, she knew he was standing very close, perhaps bent down, looking right at her. Rough, unfamiliar hands met her face then and Heather flinched on instinct. "Oh, sit still you stupid ass thing!" A sudden, painful blow to her stomach had Heather immediately subdued and choking again, but she was too terrified to even shrink away. "That's better," her cruel captor growled and then, finally the world sprang back into merciful light. He'd removed a blindfold, so the dim lighting now joined the dank around them, and Heather immediately took stock of her surroundings. She lay on the hardwood floor of what looked to be a small cabin, lit with flickering torches and with no decorations. _No electricity._ Just how far _was_ she from civilized society? "Whatchu lookin' at, stupid?" Heather felt herself being rolled onto her back by those same rough, powerful hands, and nearly yelped in response, either from her hands now being crushed beneath her own weight, or the shock of the man she could now see. He had short, rust-colored hair with what looked like horns jutting out of either side of his head, and oversized, inky black eyes. "You call me Master," was all he said to her, but then he tossed his head. "Come'n look!" He'd called behind himself, grinning as his cohort crawled over too, and it was only then that the nature of this situation fully dawned on Heather.

To these men she was nothing more than a raw slab of meat.

"Very niccccce," the shorter, snake-like male actually hissed, crawling on all fours to get a close look at the human he'd captured, and Heather caught site of this one as well. It was hardly a man, with sallow, pale skin, black claws and eyes the exact color of vomit. His long, leather-black tail trailed afterward as he completed a full circle: inspecting her from every angle. Heather recognized that tail as the one that had nearly drowned her. "Looksssss healthy, yes Master?"

"Very." 'Master' prodded Heather's thigh with one leather-gloved hand, and she suddenly wished to have her leg amputated, so complete was her disgust and shame from being touched by him. He however seemed pleased, readily admiring the shape of her hips. "This thing probably eats better than us, eh? Wheresabouts did you say it came from, eh Snake?"

"Arkansas."

"Lucky break then." He scoffed. "Fat little things, most of them 'mericans, but this female looks like its a good size, eh?"

"Yes, little goldilocks, aren't you?" The snake-man teased, leaning over with those reptile eyes narrowed. "Not too big, not too small, not too short, not too tall..." His clawed, sickly albino hands ghosted over her chest and Heather nearly shuddered, hating the way those thin lips slid back into a toothy, fanged grin.

"Not too flat either..."

"I like them eyes too," the other added, and Heather was shocked to see he was actually talking to her. "Where'd ya get 'em?" _What?_ That question didn't make sense to Heather. She knew her eyes to be brown: plain compared with their freakish eyecolors. "Speak up!" the Master insisted, yanking the gag down just enough for Heather to speak. "Wheresabouts your eye colors come from?"

"Um... my mother?" To her painful shock, Master then stood and kicked her again. The force knocked the wind out of her, leaving a muddy brown bootprint, and then that tight, wet gag was shoved right back into her mouth.

"Think you're cute, dontcha!?" he spat, "Well ya ain't cute, you got that! You better learn some respect 'n answer like you got a brain in that little head, eh?"

"Okay!" That had come out muffled too, and he only yelled in response, "Okay, _Master_!"

She repeated obediently, eyes screwed shut with the pain, but inside Heather swore she would never stoop so low as to call anyone this ugly or this cruel her 'Master.' She wished she were anywhere but here, anyone but herself: a piece of meat that now belonged to these two greedy _things._

"That's better," the Master had scoffed, "now sit still." To Heather's disgust, he then got to his knees and made to slide those gloved fingers right up under her shirt. Automatically she flinched, legs tied together or not, but he caught her and pinned her back down. "I said sit, didn't I, dummy? Stay still before ya piss me off again."

"He wants to see the bruisessss," the snake-like man added, and Heather wasn't sure what that meant, but she stayed still for a moment, and true to those words, Master did pull her shirt up, right to the base of her bra and furrowed those thick, ugly eyebrows. "Not too bad," was his assessment, "the pink ones'll heal quick."

"These'll be purple soon though," Snake pointed out, indicating her wrists and ankles as well, "if it keeps movin' around."

"Wild one," Master scoffed, " gotta get this one broken." _Broken_? _WHAT?_ Heather struggled mightily, but Master had had enough at that point. He flipped her back over, hands in her hair, and this time a pounding headache sprang up with the darkness.


	2. The Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Scared?" challenged the talking stag, but Chris shook his head.
> 
> He took another step back, eyes fixed on those dangerous-looking antlers, the deepening water at his knees reassuring. "Deer can't swim."
> 
> "That is true," it agreed, tossing those deadly horns back, "but snakes can."

Stunning blue eyes and sleek, straight black hair. It fell into his face every now and again, needing to be tossed back, and he always obliged with an elegant flourish.

Christian Steven Avalon.

His skin shone a marble white once set against his inky black outfits and jewelry, and he always had something dangling from his neck and a glimmer or two on his fingers. 'Artsy' was Christian's type, as well as his dating preference. Admittedly though, he didn't date much. He liked the girls with short black hair, like his own, flat chests and equally nonexistent backsides: the ones who dressed in a way Heather liked to describe using only one word.

Trashy.

To which Christian would, laughing, reply, "Well yeah but isn't that the whole point?" Heather knew he was joking, of course, but her Chris never did notice his best friend's secret envy. Not even on those days when he lay right beside her, confessing his troubles and listening to hers, did Chris ever treat Heather as more than just a friend. He liked their heads side by side and their hands clasped together, but nothing more than that.

His whispered secrets stirred in her heart and the same love she'd sworn not to feel slowly grew along with them. A new chance to trust: hope for the future, and that, simply put, Chris, a shining beacon of a boy who defied stereotypes with his whims and could melt winter itself with his warming blue gaze.

So when a sopping wet, shivering mass of fabric slumped to the ground beside her, blindfolded or not, Heather would not even have recognized her best friend of five years.

She was unconscious, in any case, and didn't get to say goodbye, but his voice triggered something: a dream of days long past, wherein both her parents stood at her bedside, reading the stories they so loved to tell.

"Without Light-" Father paused, clearing his throat as Mama and Heather settled back down, both stifling giggles. The three were supposed to be getting ready for bed, but so far had gotten distracted at least a dozen times. Marcus Mayhue gave his girls a moment before trying again to continue the story. "Without Light, there can be no life. Even plants cannot grow, and birds cannot see to fly. Ind-"

"Papa?"

Again Marcus paused, turning to his daughter with a patient reply. "Yes, little princess?"

"Can't we skip a little and hear the one about Radiant instead?" The little child had her fingers crossed, with those excited brown eyes aglow, and her father found that impossible to turn down.

"Hmm, I guess so." He nodded, but then he raised an eyebrow as Heather let out the breathless squeal of, "She's my totally favorite!"

"Is she?" Mama caught her husband's stunned eyes, highly amused, but Papa spoke up. "No, no my darlings, he insisted, "Radiant, the magic silver dragon, was way too strong to be a cute little girl! He must have been a big handsome man!"

"No way!" his daughter stood on the bed, dainty little hands perched defiantly on her hips. "Radiant was too pretty to be a smelly, stupid boy!" Laughing, Mama joined in, holding out her arms for effect, "That's right! Radiant's pretty and strong, don't you see? For Radiant was secretly me!" She flapped her imaginary wings, pretending to be the dragon herself as Father jumped in once more. He too held out his arms, letting out a roar like a lion.

"It is I, Radiant, the most powerful being in all of creation!" was his own bold announcement.

"No, I'm Radiant!" Heather decided, standing up to join in with her parent's excitement.

The story was never fully read on that night, but by then Heather knew it by heart. Radiant, the magical dragon would one day be reborn and bring happiness to the whole world! To her, it seemed Radiant was already fast at work, spreading joy with Mama's energy and excitement with Papa's wit.

The little family wound up in a fierce dragon battle that night, each seeking to conquer the other with deadly tickling claws. In the end mother prevailed, story time forgotten, and all three wound up strewn out: breathless with laughter.

At some point little Heather accidentally kicked the book, and it tumbled onto the ground, snapping shut.

Likewise, the laughter in the Mayhue household would cease abruptly, to be replaced with blue flashes of light and blaring sirens. It was a Monday. Heather remembered the school bells and the bus that had dropped her off: number 00-67, but she couldn't, for the life of her, remember how it had happened.

Father was suddenly on the ground, with blood at his neck and down both his arms. There were no knives in sight.

"Marcus what's wrong!? What's going on!?" Mother had questioned him tirelessly but he never did answer. Maybe he couldn't. The doctors had muttered things about 'multiple lacerations,' but this meant nothing to the two, grief-stricken girls.

Dire as his wounds were, however, it was not bloodloss that took Heather's father away from his family, but Marcus Mayhue himself. He'd woken from surgery and rushed out the door, refusing to stop even as the doctors chased after.

Then he simply never came back.

He had left a note, Heather eventually learned. She'd found it years later, hidden inside of that book, but by then the tear-smudged words failed to make any sense.

Only Mother, to whom it was addressed, understood.

"Celine,

By the time you find this letter I w dy be gone. I can't say to where, because imparting such knowledge would danger.  
I think we both knew this day would eventually come,  
but I wanted you isn't your fault. There are some things mortal hands were just never meant to touch.

He has left something with me. I cannot afford to waste. No other can do what I must do now. Please understand this also. If re to happen to me, it would change Heather as well. You will know when it does, because she will leave. cruel of me to ask, but I beg you to keep telling her the stories.  
What other options do we have?

What other option could any human have?

Hikaru is what I named her: Light, for this very reason. And now, looking back, I shouldn't ha I realize that all along, though you were my wife;  
my indispensable I treated you second best.

But you were never second best. Not even for a moment.

I have heard what they say about destiny. About love. I was meant to be with , and how important it is that I play my role.  
But please know it is only because he No one else could possibly replace you.

I ramble. For that I am sorry. Once you have read this letter, please to Leonevir.  
If you do not, it could danger. And I want anything but that.

I only wanted to say goodbye.

-Marcus"

Mother had cried for many nights. She held that letter close to her heart, and reread it again and again, even after it grew faded and worn by her tears. Celine kept that letter, cared for Heather, and read her the stories. Never again, however, was she able to smile.

Heather thought it ironic, once she was old enough to recognize just how like her own life that old story of Radiant really had been. She remembered, even years after hearing it, the sound of her father reading the final words of the story.

"The people forgot about Radiant, after so many years.

Only the dragons carried down the tales and only the children sang the songs.

Even the trees mourned endlessly, for they felt the death of life itself. The world fell into a sleepy stupor, awaiting the day when their light would return."

Eventually bedtime stories ended, since Mother picked up two more jobs, and things like fanciful dreams of magic died out. Their contents nearly faded from Heather's mind, much like the memory of her own father's smile, and the sound of his voice… what it meant to be happy with someone she loved.

That same little story book lay in Heather's room for nearly ten years, without so much as one person to glance over even its cover with the engraved silver title. That was, until the week before her eighteenth birthday.

"Without Light?" Christian had raised an eyebrow, wondering over the diary-sized storybook he'd dug from beneath Heather's dusty pink bed. The thing was very strange to look at, underneath the layer of dust, with a black, leather-like cover and the title etched out and then filled with some strange golden substance. "Never heard of it…" He flipped through a few pages, eyebrows raising only more. "It's all gibberish! What a useless-"

"It was my Dad's," Heather spat, snatching the book to herself, "And yes, stupid, I already know none of it makes any sense. He used to make up the stories I guess, back when he gave a shit."

Stupid Chris. Nearly eighteen full years of life should have been long enough for Chris to master the art of shoving his foot into his mouth, but apparently he still hadn't perfected that skill.

"Well sorry," He held up his hands innocently, "I'm just trying to help clean the place up like you asked…"

Heather met those apologetic blue eyes, relenting. "Yeah," she offered, halfheartedly, "Sorry I guess." It's not his fault.

Heather gave a meek smile, and Chris shot his more glowing grin right her way, implying that all was forgiven. Heather found herself immensely thankful for that. Graduation was coming up fast, and she hadn't even cleaned out her new room, let alone her old pink one! Chris had followed her right home from school to help out. He was just giving that way, but she knew for a fact he'd skipped work, and wondered how in the world he'd ever make it through college like that.

Chris was definitely a wonder. He'd set right to work in the little pink room that was not even his, and seemed right at home. In fact, he seemed to like all this girly, pink stuff. Heather could tell. His bright blue eyes weren't all that great at hiding enthusiasm.

"Uh, you wanna keep that?"

Chris started, pausing like a deer caught in headlights. He'd meant to organize Heather's old jewelry, but wound up frozen, mesmerized by the simple beauty of this one certain piece. A star. It was his favorite shape, hands down, and on top of that, his favorite color as well! Holding it up, he tried to tell himself this necklace wasn't anything special: just a long bit of black lace hung with what looked like soft green jade. But still, Chris felt he'd never seen anything so cool in his life. "Mom would kill me if I wore something like this," he confessed, "you chicks are so lucky."

"Tuck it into your shirt then," Heather offered. She obviously did not understand.

"But it's gay…"

"Pssht!" He glowered at that, but Heather only insisted he take home her necklace. "It's not nearly as gay as you, Chris."

"I'm not friggin' gay…" Chris muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Just try it on then," Heather sighed, pretending she hadn't noticed the forcedly restrained joy that lit up his bright blue eyes. She cracked open that book and shoved her nose inside, pretending to read while the boy behind her was undoubtedly trying on and most likely fawning over his new necklace.

It's beautiful. Chris turned to model in front of the dusty pink armoire. The jade brought out the aqua hue in his eyes and the black lace almost perfectly matched the loose strands of his hair, which he liked to keep at least long enough to cover the hickies on his collar. "Um… How's it look, Hikaru?"

She only nodded, turning a page as she continued to fake-read. She'd long ago made a vow to avoid checking Chris out whenever possible. She'd already done it a thousand times, and it only served to light embarrassing colors onto her cheeks. "Now it's got your cooties, by the way, so you gotta keep it."

"What? But-"

"Anyway, I'm bored with cleaning. Let's go do something." Hoping her diversion had worked, Heather peered up over the book, not even noticing the perfectly clear sentences forming themselves from what had once been pure gibberish. Chris had raised those steel-blue eyes to the ceiling, contemplating.

"Oh," he decided, "I know! Wanna go down to the creek?"

Heather wanted to roll her eyes and respond with 'does this skirt look like it belongs at the creek?' but thought better of it. Chris had never been one to appreciate cute new outfits anyway. At least not when I'm the one wearing them.

"Sure I guess."

She wished he'd recognize that as the 'not really' that it was, but of course he did not. Instead Chris seemed to take that as a challenge and raced out the door, yelling "Beat ya there!"

Those words were a cue. In one split second Heather dashed off and suddenly found herself sprinting down the street and into the woods, chasing after her hyper best friend, with that jet black hair whipping behind and yet leading the way.

Chris hopped effortlessly up and climbed high onto the creek's ledge, announcing his victory, and only then did he turn back, just for the sake of gloating. "Not even fast enough to put down dear Daddy's book, are ya, Heather?"

"Oh shut up," Heather snickered, and without even thinking, she tossed that book right at him. Chris ducked, laughing, but the movement was so quick that he wound up slipping and tumbled right out of sight, a flurry of fall leaves kicked up in his wake.

With her hands now freed, Heather made to follow, snickering still. She expected to climb right up to the top and poke her head over the edge, to tease her undoubtedly wet friend, but instead found herself shocked.

There was the familiar water of the creek, but Christian himself was nowhere to be found.

x

x

"What the hell?"

Chris crawled up onto the bank and swung around, unable to believe his own eyes. What was once the familiar, rocky little creek had somehow warped into a vast, crystal blue lake. Luckily he seemed to have fallen in the more shallow water, and so was able to reemerge quickly and with minimal damage. The same did not hold true, however, for the sopping wet book he'd instinctively retrieved. Water dripped from its pages, almost as rapidly as from his own wet hair, and with it ran the ink.

The shaken teen easily freed himself from the water, standing in the shallows, but had no idea what to do next. His arms fell to his sides with water running down as his confused blue gaze rose to the unfamiliar orange-streaked sky.

This lake stretched on for miles, disappearing beneath a stirring volcano. Soft plumes of smoke billowed forth from the tip, dusting the neighboring mountains with thick grey ash, but once he'd turned around, Christian found himself met with a very different image. Soft grasses and autumn orange trees replaced the familiar evergreen forest and dirt trail: overgrown and alien.

"Hikaru?"

Only the wind in the trees answered his call, though at least a dozen redbirds burst into flight, scattering into the sky. I'm somewhere totally different. But how? And why had he arrived alone? Heather was right behind me…

He turned back toward the lake, scanning the area, but it seemed his best friend was still nowhere to be found. Without even thinking, Chris made to toss the book back in the lake. It was ruined now, and of no use whatsoever.

The soaked volume seemed to hit the sky, just like those birds, but once it touched down, it slipped right back out of existence, not so much as grazing the water.

"Ouch!"

Heather instinctively reached up to massage the swiftly growing knot on the back of her head, but it wasn't until after she'd finished cursing coconuts, dead tree limbs and the sky itself that she realized what'd actually hit her. Dad's book?

"What the hell?" The book had seemed to fall down from nowhere, hit her in the head and then landed with a wet thud on the ground. Her glaring eyes swept over the still Christian-free creek and darted around the deserted, dead forest, but still she saw nothing.

What was going on?

x

x

"It's a fault."

Chris paused. He'd only just reared back, preparing to throw a rock at the apparently magical lake, but now found himself completely distracted by something even more magical.

I've lost it.

What looked to be some kind of deer had walked right up behind him, and as if this were normal, the thing promptly began speaking to him in plain English. "You're pretty sharp," it first offered, cocking its head with those huge brown antlers raised, "most humans just wander about the forest, not realizing the lake'd take 'em right back home…"

"How?" Chris immediately questioned, trying not to look as shocked as he felt. Those giant grey eyes began sizing him up, and he did the same. This beast had reddish-brown fur and muscular legs, looking both ready and willing to run those sharp antlers through anything in its way. "I already tried swimming back to where I was. It didn't work."

The strange creature snorted with a nod. "There's a fault in everything, got that? And always a way to take advantage a one. Take people for example-kids especially- always talking to strangers…" The stag-or whatever it might've been- stepped closer then, but Chris immediately backed up, not caring when his feet sank back into the murky green lakewater.

"Scared?" challenged the talking stag, but Chris shook his head.

He took another step back, eyes fixed on those dangerous-looking antlers, the deepening water at his knees reassuring. "Deer can't swim."

"That is true," it agreed, tossing those deadly horns back, "but snakes can."


	3. Other World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Come," the sly creature repeated, sliding closer as Heather gingerly moved forward to meet it half way. "Just a little more and maybe you will even hear him breathe..." 
> 
> She wanted to. Her poor Chris looked so pale, but still handsome as ever, even with those horrid tails around his neck. He needed her help... 

Heather climbed down carefully and took just one step into the dark, frigid water, reaching out to reclaim her father's old book. _How'd it get here?_ Luckily it had landed in a patch of soggy leaves and moss-covered rocks, though most of the pages looked soggy and ruined. She hastily wiped it on her shirt, not really caring about the wet spot left behind, and made to wade over to the pier. Upon reaching it, she climbed onto the dry, stable wood. It was then that she felt an uncomfortable sting on her neck. 

She slapped the mosquito automatically, cringing at the bloody mess it'd left on her palm. But once the little mess was wiped off and she had settled down, a new feeling swept over her: pleasant and numb clueless warmth. Heather felt vaguely that she missed someone: that she'd been looking for someone, but shrugged it off with minimal effort. _Must be this book I was looking for_. Now that she'd found it, Heather felt completely at peace. 

**_The book is the answer,_** the wind seemed to whisper, and she focused on it without question, all thoughts of Chris flown away. She needed to read this book. And this book needed to be read. **_For that reason I had to get him out of your head._ **

And she knew this voice. It came not from her head but from the forest itself, whispering to her heart: the voice of one she could trust. “Without Light...” It was so quiet Heather’s voice seemed to reverberate and the pages nearly turned themselves. Each time Heather’s fingers touched down, another formerly wet page dried itself and crisp, brown letters appeared. 

There was that same gibberish she remembered: indecipherable pages of nothing, but the more Heather looked, the more the nothing became something, until what had been gibberish began to almost make sense. 

Thdogh faw husxans redaise, thave exosdts a sepeave wosfd, pargssel akd yut sinokar to tge husxan’s ladfs. Thaviin rosemed coubteiss monctfius begdts waoh podwgs obfr ebun nayrbe ithyjf: ekch msfe dibsne thin the lsdt, syfe moye podbgjul akd otgdns moye lodgly tsgn cin esvr be debhdjged. 

"I don’t understand…” 

**_Truth is not to be read, only known,_** responded the voice. **_Feel it._ **

“But what does that mean?” Heather asked that aloud, yet almost understood it already. _I was never supposed to read this book._ She’d tried it before, looking for codes in mere nonsense, but perhaps the words themselves were not what her father had given, but the experience of doing just what he’d done, with her fingers turning these pages and her eyes scanning where his had once fallen. She could almost feel him even now, after so many years, and hear his voice, as he wrote out the answers. 

**_Close your eyes._** She obeyed, sight replaced with familiar darkness, and Heather felt almost as if she’d fallen asleep like she had so long ago, with Father reading that book just for her. 

In her mind’s eye the pure blackness became scenery: plush grass stretched at her feet and the sky painted itself with smatterings of white clouds on blue canvas. The voice of Marcus spoke as trees spotted the horizon and flowers burst into bloom. _“_ _T_ _here exists a separate world, parallel and yet similar to the human's lands_ _.._ _.”_

Heather felt the grass at her feet, soft between her toes, and yet knew she still wore her sandals. She felt herself running, even as she knew she must still be seated, and more and more trees burst to life around her, until she found herself within a deep forest. 

_“Therein roamed countless monstrous beasts with powers over even nature itself_ _…”_

Now the first sign of life made itself known. Around an oak slithered a snake, its long, scaly hide covered in what could just as well have been jewels. But those black scales grew with its body, until the snake became something fearful and new.   
  
Powerful claws and leathery wings burst into view with bright flames, and the very ground shook as it fell down from the tree. Heather wheeled around, but found herself faced with another monstrous creature. Sturdy hooves built themselves from what had been only earth, and crooked brown horns stretched up high in the air, overshadowed only by intimidating, muscle-bound flanks. This elk let out a cry, hurtling toward her just as the dragon charged forth, but each monster passed right through Heather, as if they had been ghosts all along, and entirely new creatures appeared. Wide, scarlet wings fanned out on her left and wheat blonde paws touched down at her right. Both veered back around as the phoenix danced with the wolf and the dragon roared with the elk. With them Heather ran through the forests, past countless beautiful creatures, through powder-soft grass and over effortless hills, wild and free. She felt the wind on her face, the pressure of still-pumping wings and the rumble of powerful hooves on the ground. She was one of them. 

_“_ _None owed allegiance to any other, and none claimed rule. Thus, all lived w_ _ithout guidance: without light._   
_Before long;_ _however, these powerful beings became tempted to see which was greatest._ _Each declared their species_ _most superior, and began to struggle to prove it.”_

Suddenly the dragon turned on the elk and the sun itself seemed to fade out. In its place fire lit like blood in the sky. Golden talons flashed on the phoenix and feral growls rent the air from the wolf. Heather felt blood spatter on her face and turned every which way with terror gripping her heart. Cold dread had her paralyzed, but it wasn’t until then that Heather recognized what was happening around her: Father’s old bedtime story played out in fine detail, no longer juvenile but true to life and more gruesome than fanciful. She could hear the pain of the “magical animals” as each took blow after blow. Only one thing was missing: the magnificent silver dragon who was supposed to have saved them. _Radiant_ _._

_“The wars waged tirelessly and m_ _any wondrous species were burned into extinction. Hurricanes devastated the lands at the command of the leopards_ _,_ _while wildfires raged on wolfkind’s forest home. Earthq_ _uakes shook even the ice dragons’ mountain_ _s and the phoenix was forced to rebirth itself thrice._ _Finally, when the land itself seemed_ _certainly_ _doomed, for the_ _ir_ _destroying it_ _, a ra_ _y of hope split through the sky_ _. From this light,_ _he_ _was born._   
_Radiant_ _: the source of all life, was_ _,_ _in truth,_ _neither male nor female, or eve_ _n human or beast, but from him was birthed_ _power, in its most pure, potent form_ _.”_

Heather looked around herself, anxiety rising. Various beasts surrounded her, panting, tired and scarred from their battles, but relief in the form of Radiant was nowhere to be found. Father’s voice faded to nothing, darkness enveloped each creature, one by one, and Heather saw just one last thing: the glowing red eyes of the dragon. Had Radiant abandoned them? But for those eyes and his firey breath, the world remained without light. 

**_Do you understand now? Does the book show you our plight?_ **

Heather opened her eyes, surprised to find they felt wet, and snapped that book shut. Reality seemed dimmer somehow, as if even her world lacked _his_ light. “Who are you?” She didn’t know if any of this was real, but Heather needed some answers. She set aside her Father’s old book, voice lifted with her chin to the sky. “And what do you mean? Radiant is real?” 

**_Radiant is as real as you are,_ ** whispered the wind, **_and I am his brother, Merenteren._ **

Heather muttered that name, absently trailing her fingers over the half nonsense text. It almost made perfect sense, and yet it did not. "So the stories Dad told me were true… But he was a liar.” 

**_You are speaking of Marcus?_ **

“I hate him.” 

**_But he has left only you with the answer_** **_s. You can feel everything_ ** **_gods_ ** **_only dream they could_ ** **_know._ **

"And what the hell does that mean? How do you know my dad?" 

**_I’ve been feeling your presence of late, and perhaps this is why. We were destined to meet._ **

"Answer my questions!" 

**_If you are who you say..._** ** _then I promise I will. Please stand._ **

Heather was about to refuse, but suddenly startled, nearly dropping that book. What looked to be a bolt of lightning shot across above her, but instead of striking downward, it ran horizontal, as if following invisible twine. 

**_Do not be afraid. This is only a faultline, where through that book only just fell, and my voice travels now._ **

Just as he said this, the fault seemed to pulse with a threatening crackle, then seared itself out of sight, but not before dropping something else. That something landed in a heap of white fur, but swiftly made to gather its bearings. Heather jumped to her feet as the book tumbled to the ground. _Bad move!_

Sharp canine ears perked up as the creature turned toward the sound. _A wolf!_ And not just any wolf. This thing was massive, comparable to polar bears she'd seen at the zoo. Large bright white fangs and dead blue eyes snapped toward her, and Heather whipped around. **_Don't! You’ll fall into the fault!_ **

She froze, obeying even as the fear gripped her heart. What did that mean, to fall into a fault? The wolf jumped then, but somehow those huge white paws touched down weightlessly as it landed before her, rather than on her. Beneath its paws grass and poppies sprang up from the long-dead wood of the pier and Heather knew then that she was face to face with one of the same magical beasts from that book. 

**_This is a Shiren, like myself._ ** Merenteren offered, sounding it out for her. **_Sheer-Rehn. He will not harm you._ **

Heather nodded, breath caught in her throat, and tried to force herself not to panic. The wolf creature stepped only closer, and still more flowers burst to life at its feet. Purple poppies and little blue blooms she couldn't name curled up at those paws, as if trying to soothe her unrest. Oversized or not, even Heather could tell this creature was of a haunting, yet docile nature. That snow white fur seemed the only thing alive in this dead-looking forest. Soft masses of powder-white snow seemed to ripple along its back and once it was close enough, Heather noticed its pale eyes, blue as ice. 

_It's blind?_

The wolf, or whatever this large dog-like creature might've been, sniffed its way closer until its nose almost touched her chest, and Heather stood frozen, mouth agape as she took in its size: at least six feet tall. The thing stood easily taller than her, and when those huge jaws parted, Heather considered running again. In one bite this thing could easily take off her head, but instead of attacking, the wolf used those huge jaws to speak. 

"Marcus? So you are alive?" 

Those dead, ice-blue eyes met with her wide brown ones, but Heather could think of nothing to say. It repeated itself with that calm, reverberating voice, posing the same question and finally she found strength enough to speak. 

"Um, well, I'm his daughter." 

“You lie.” Those sharp ears perked up and the wolf cocked its head. "Meren, why have you brought me here?” 

**_It’s true,_** the other assured, **_I feel Marcus within her._ **

"Not in a female. He would have mentioned-" 

**_Perhaps that is exactly_** ** _why he never mentioned!_ **

The wolf made a clear face of disbelief. “Marcus had no human offspring. He knew never to mate with a human.” 

**_But what if he did? What if this is his eldest?_ **

"Then he is more of a fool than I thought..." Those dead blue eyes stared into her curious brown ones for many long moments and Heather got the feeling this wolf could see into her soul, even without sight. That black nose sniffed continually and it cocked its head from side to side, as if contemplating. 

“But…” The wolf said its final word then, sighing, “Never mind. In time we shall know.” 

At that point, without warning, the wolf suddenly reared back on those huge hind legs and let out a loud, baying howl. Shocked, Heather jumped back, only to fall right off the edge of the pier. She closed her eyes, braced to hit the cold water, but instead landed in what turned out to be a soft patch of grass. 

She'd caught sight of the bright light and crackling energy of the fault, but only in time to see everything change. The familiar creekside burst into a whole new area, as if swallowed up into nothing, and even the wolf disappeared, its fur whipping about with the sheer force of the magic she'd activated. 

Reality seemed to have rent apart, but then instantly rebuilt itself. Grey sky crashed into orange and wildlife sprung up into existence. Suddenly redbirds fluttered overhead, twittering, and woodland creatures chattered as they ducked beneath underbrush, and though night had not fallen, crickets sang as the fireflies danced in the waning sunlight. 

_Life._ That was her very first thought. Somehow, this world just seemed much more alive. The sun lit up like she'd never seen it and the grey clouds of her own world dissipated. Even the wind picked up: dancing with the chestnut tresses of her long, tussled hair. Everything seemed magnificent here, right down to the last, smallest flowers blooming themselves. 

Last to settle was the wolf's cry itself: a powerful, spirit-calm song, and in the wolf's place grew a trail of thick green grasses and flowers: guidance born of its magical paws. 

Without even thinking, Heather stood and made to follow this trail, but at that very moment, a loud splashing sound caught her attention. _What was that?_ Turning around revealed a dark lake with a volcano on the horizon behind her. Her heart raced as Heather’s eyes darted that way, but she caught nothing moving. 

"Hello?" She'd called out, but no one replied. "Uh, Merenteren?" The area remained silent, aside from Heather's own breathing. Was he stuck in the other world with that wolf? Or had he truly been her imagination's creation? Or maybe… she was imagining all of this? 

_But I know I heard something.._. She turned a full circle, trying desperately to keep quiet enough to hear it again, but for many long moments, only the pounding in her chest presented itself. The lake fell still and silent, dark eerie waters smoother than glass, and just when she'd begun to think she'd imagined it all, her quarry resurfaced. "Chris?!" 

But something was wrong with him. Christian's pretty blue eyes were closed, and he had many thick black cords wrapped tightly around his neck. Heather immediately ran to the water, ignoring the wetness and seaweed, as she prayed that it wasn't too late. 

_Wait, what's going on!_ Common sense kicked in, and she paused at that point, treading three feet. Rather than sinking, her best friend's body seemed to be rising further out of the water. 

Those cords were not dragging him down, but holding him up, and they turned out not to be cords after all, but either tails or tentacles, whose owner eventually surfaced as well. What looked to be a human-reminiscent black lizard grinned nastily at her, holding Chris up by the neck, and Heather felt her muscles lock up at the sight. 

The creature seemed calm, or more than that, mischievously pleased, and hissed to her: beckoning in English. "Oh dear, have I gone and snagged a fish that belongssss to you, little girl?" 

She couldn't even speak for the shock. This bizarre thing, whatever it was, had managed to produce human speech, but unlike the wolf, this thing was dangerous-looking, equipped with multiple dexterous tails and clawed hands. 

Poor Chris seemed unconscious in its grip, but Heather couldn't tell from this distance. There were dark purple bruises all over his neck, and she couldn't even see his whole chest. Apparently he had struggled mightily against this thing but had lost. Did this thing have practice, drowning people for fun? 

"Worried?" whispered that cruel, grinning creature. "Wondering if this human isss alive?" The reptile cocked its head, fixing her with an unblinking, reddish stare. "Come over and sssee..." 

She shook her head, but he responded with a simple "fine," and then promptly dunked Chris back down under the water. 

"No!" Heather didn't even recognize that shrill, terrified cry as her own. Her body was shaking like she'd never felt and her heart constricted with pain, only slightly relieved when the creature lifted her Christian back up. "Let him go." She all but begged, "Please." 

"He'll just sink to the bottom if I do that..." teased the reptile, "Why don't you come here and get him?" 

_It'll drag me under too_. Heather knew but just didn't have a choice. If she swam to shore she may have had a chance to get away, but how could she possibly live with herself if this thing really did _drown_ her best friend? 

"Come," the sly creature repeated, sliding closer as Heather gingerly moved forward to meet it half way. "Just a little more and _maybe_ you will even hear him breathe..." 

She wanted to. Her poor Chris looked so pale, but still handsome as ever, even with those horrid tails around his neck. He needed her help. 

Finally she swam in almost five feet, and reached out to catch Chris, but at the same time the creature's tail rose up from the water behind her. Like a snake it struck, wrapping swiftly about her neck and then forcibly yanked her down under the water. 


End file.
